


The Coffee Shop

by MaskHumanity



Category: Adam Driver - Fandom
Genre: Adam Driver - Freeform, Brooklyn Aesthetic, Coffee Shop, Dialogue, Dog Lover, F/M, Fiction, Fluff, Modern AU, Moose, No Covid 19, Short Story, croissant - Freeform, real person - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskHumanity/pseuds/MaskHumanity
Summary: This is a short story about meeting Adam Driver at a coffee shop in Brooklyn (NOT A TRUE STORY).
Relationships: Adam Driver & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Adam

Adam woke up far too early that morning, Moose galloping loudly against the cold hardwood floors of his quiet apartment. Spring had just taken root in Brooklyn, but the morning air still held winter's chill. Adam groaned into his pillow angrily, not usually one to disagree with Moose about much. One quick peek at the clock on his bedside table had him questioning his dog entirely. He would need coffee to function this early.

When Adam's bare feet settled on the floor, Moose went crazy. His tail thumped the side of the bed, paws and claws pattering excitedly against the floorboards. Adam stretched the sleep from his limbs, broad shoulders rolling in the frosty morning light. Once standing, Moose took off down the hall. Adam trailed groggily behind, stumbling briefly with knuckles screwed into his puffy eyes.

Adam had been divorced for almost two years; his new condo finally starting to feel like home - not only for himself, but for Moose, too. After a frenzy of work for the first 18 months, Adam had been taking a hiatus before returning to theater for a smaller production of True West. Rehearsals would begin in just under a month, plenty of time left to spend his days walking Moose and learning to cook.

He'd spent the week before with his son in Colonial Williamsburg for spring break. His son loved history, particularly American history, and Adam was thrilled to take him exploring for a week. They’d trekked Yorktown Battlefield and Jamestown Settlement, and spent three or four days wondering about the Colonial town. Reaching his kitchen, he eyes the magnet on his fridge from Jamestown. It read "My Fort, My Rules" - his son encouraged him to buy it.

_"For your new house, dad!"_

Adam could remember how his ears stuck out from under that red beanie. His hair had been kept short, to his mother's liking. Adam bit his tongue from speaking ill of her in front of their son, but his ears were red from the cold and Adam huffed warm air into his hands before cupping them over his son's ears.

Now he looked at that magnet, stuck to his otherwise barren fridge, and saw his son in that red beanie and matching red ears. Moose padded about at his feet, darting from the kitchen to the hall. Adam rifled through the cupboard for coffee, groaning loudly when his fingers found the empty bag. One or two rogue beans rattled about in the bottom of the brown paper pouch, not nearly enough to dream up a cup from it.

“Moose!” He called out.

It seemed that Adam would have to find coffee elsewhere this morning, knowing Moose would enjoy a walk around the neighborhood to the new coffee shop a few blocks away. Adam chuckled when Moose sat the leash at his bare feet, tail thumping wildly against the floor. He rushed through brushing his teeth and putting himself together just enough to be presentable in public before leashing Moose and headed out the door.

Brooklyn was chilly this Wednesday morning, and Adam immediately regretted not having the foresight to grab himself a heavier jacket. Having left the house in a rush meant Moose was fitted in a snug little sweater and Adam tugged on some joggers and a hoodie over his sleep shirt. At least he’d put on winter boots and a beanie instead of his usual AITAF trucker hat. He drew the hoodie tighter around his face as he and Moose padded toward the storefront.


	2. Reader

“Good Bean” was exactly your speed this morning, the shop wasn’t busy in the way of patrons and the patio was empty (thanks, in part, to the weather.) You sat at one of the tiny wooden tables facing the street and bundled your knit scarf closer to your neck. You had just finished setting up your laptop when a server had made her way to you to take your order. She was alternative with skin the color of chestnuts and intricate tattoos detailing the skin of her arms and neck. She wore little apple earrings and 50s red winged glasses.

You gave her a small smile while ordering a flat white and asked (very nicely) to have another one sent out in about a half hour. You paid in advance, being sure to tip her well, and turned your attention to your laptop screen when she left. You had been typing for about ten minutes when you heard the server approach another patron behind you and ask if they’d like the heaters to be turned on. You heard some indecisive grumbling, the shuffling of feet, and a moment of silence before a deep male voice responded “No, thank you.”

Well, it seemed someone had joined you out in the cold. Not wanting to be rude, you turned your attention back to your work, breezing through paragraphs like the April wind. After another short while, the server brought you the second coffee. You thanked her profusely while juggling your empty mug with your new one, before reaching into your bag for another twenty.

“Can I have one more flat white, please?” You asked, handing her the bill once she’d safely grabbed the empty mug.

“And maybe a croissant, too – if you have any left?”

“Of course!” The server tucked the bill into her apron and turned to leave.

“Oh! I don’t need any change, by the way; keep it please. Thank you!” You turned to catch her before she left the patio.

You caught a glimpse of the other customers this time. The server nodded and once she shuffled back inside, your view became unobstructed. Sitting cattycorner from yourself was this tall, undeniably handsome man with a sweet pit bull mix lying contentedly at his feet. As if you couldn’t help yourself, you gushed over the well-behaved pooch before even giving his owner another glance. You dropped your head closer to his level and spoke nonsense to the dog without thinking how silly you must have looked.

“Hey there, lovey!” Your voice contorted as if you were talking to a baby.

You glanced back up at the owner with red cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden lack of self-control.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized while you met his eyeline.

Hazel, amber eyes regarded you. You shook the stars out of your vision.

“Sorry, your dog is such a cutie.” You straightened up while stealing another glance down at the pooch whose ears had perked up at the attention.

“No, no problem.” The owner assured you, voice dark and rich like caramel.

“This is Moose.” He scratched the dog at the back of his neck, under his leather collar.

Your eyes felt at war as they flickered back and forth between Moose and his handsome handler. You smiled at the dog, hands jittery in your lap.

“Hey there, Moose!” You waved, finding something to do with your hands besides pet a stranger’s dog.

Moose perked up again, rising from his spot under the chair and sitting so he could sniff the air between the three of you. The server came back then, separating the duo from you while she sat your coffee down beside you. You thanked her while she laid a small plate with the croissant next to your laptop. She turned back to the other customer, angling herself between the two of you and asked him if she could get him anything else.

You realized you were being a little creepy, looking back at the two of them, and turned back the other way in your chair quickly. Your little conversation had ended, your moment to pet the dog or talk to his owner long gone. You picked a small piece of bread apart from the croissant and popped it into your mouth, humming quietly when the warm buttery flake melted on your tongue. You chewed for a moment, unable to stop yourself from listening in on the conversation behind you.

“Oh, yes. Actually, could I get one of what she’s having? Looks good.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

You smiled to yourself, hoping he thought you had good taste. You shook your head slightly. Why does it matter if he thought you had good taste or not? Gosh, you felt silly.

“Excuse me, miss?” Wait, was he talking to _you?_

You turned around, wide eyed.

“Yes?”


	3. Adam

Adam hadn’t thought this through at all. Since Moose was with him, Adam would have to sit on the patio while he drank his morning cup. Usually it wouldn’t be much of a problem, but he’d not dressed warm enough for the occasion. He’d almost turned back when he saw you approach the patio ahead of him. You had on a pair of dark wash blue jeans and weatherproof boots. You’d been sensible enough to wear a winter coat over a cream-colored sweater and doubled up a green scarf around your slender neck. Your hair was tumbling loose down your back and shoulders in the chilly wind, and he caught a glimpse of the smallest tint of red on the tip of your nose as you sat yourself in one of the chairs and faced the street.

He’d started walking towards the patio before thinking twice. Moose sensed their destination, smart dog, and trotted ahead of him to the covered patio. Adam sat himself in the opposite corner from you and tied Moose’s leash to the wooden table leg. He had no need to tie it too tightly, Moose never strayed too far. A waitress came out to the patio and smiled while passing him before approaching you first.

“Oh good morning!” Your voice was delicate like windchimes, but soft like velvet.

“How are you, today?” You asked the waitress.

Adam stole a glance at you in time to catch the full toothy grin you gave the woman taking your order, he watched as your eyes observed the waitresses face – really looking instead of acknowledging. The waitress seemed taken aback, clearly not used to such friendly interactions this early on a weekday morning. Adam smirked, leaning down to adjust Moose’s leash once more, just to assure he’d looped it around.

“May I have a flat white, please?” The velvet windchimes sang again.

Adam closed his eyes and listened as you politely asked for your order. He could hear the waitress asking if you had a preference of brew, to which the windchimes responded with a quiet, sweet “No, thank you.”

“Oh, could I please order another one for about… a half hour from now?” Ah, so you’d planned on being here for a while.

Adam stole another glance at you. Well, that much would have already been evident to him if he’d taken a look at your table when he’d first sat down. You’d set up a small laptop in front of you, accompanied by a small bundle of headphones. Adam was pleased you still used headphones and not those new founded Bluetooth earbuds or the “airpod” things his son had drawn on his Christmas list last year. Before he knew it, the waitress was in front of him, looking down at him expectantly, but not unkind.

Startled, he’d asked for a plain black coffee. She nodded quickly and he realized, oh, she recognized him. He gave her a curt, tightlipped smile as not to be rude but hopeful she would get the hint he’d hoped to drink his coffee undisturbed. She nodded and left his table quietly, leaving Adam to watch you in silence. Moose sat beside him on the concrete, tail contentedly wagging slightly. Remembering something suddenly, Adam fished his phone out of his back pocket to send a quick message to a friend.

New Conversation:

Greta Gerwig

_Hey, I’m finally trying that new coffee place you recommended._

He took forever to text, always double checking his spelling and searching too long to find all the appropriate punctuation. He watched the message change from delivered to read and smiled when three little dots popped up, indicating she was typing her response. Adam’s good friend Greta was always recommending new places to him, though he wasn’t sure how she even knew this shop was good seeing as she was on her second child with her husband, and Adam’s very good friend Noah Baumbach.

New Message: Greta Gerwig

_Good Bean? So good! You will love it!_

He’d been debating what to respond with when a second message came through.

New Message: Greta Gerwig

_Ugh I miss caffeine!!_

Adam smiled at his screen while the waitress delivered the black coffee to his table, he smiled and wrapped his fingers graciously around the warm mug. He thanked her, unwittingly inviting her to talk a bit more as she asked him if he’d like her to turn on the outside heaters for himself and Moose. Adam glanced down at Moose, snoozing merrily under the table and snug as a bug in his little sweater; then he glanced to you, his fellow patron. His feet shuffled to glance around the waitress, whose gaze followed his to you. You were pretty bundled up, and you didn’t seem to mind the chill. He’d hate to ask them to turn the heaters on without consulting you. He awkwardly declined the offer.

The waitress left him to enjoy his coffee in quiet, where he watched you for a few moments. You typed furiously and fast, clearly emphatic about whatever it was you were writing. At one point, you clicked away from your word document to a web page, perhaps scanning through it for some research, then quickly returned to typing. Adam knew he was being creepy. He shook away the fog from his head and adjusted the beanie to cover more of his ears before reaching for his phone to text Greta back.

Not too long after, when the cold had just started to bother him, the waitress passed him to bring you your second coffee.

“Can I have one more flat white, please?” Adam smiled, silently loving how polite you were being.

You must not be from New York.

“And maybe a croissant, too – if you have any left?” He watched as you glanced around the waitress, his heart skipping a beat when he thought you may have caught a glimpse of him.

The waitress had turned toward him, then; probably about to ask him if he’d like another cup. He’d already opened his mouth to request a flat white for himself, unsure what you were drinking over there and wanting to sample it for himself, when you turned back his way to speak to the waitress.

“Oh! I don’t need any change, by the way; keep it please. Thank you!” You called.

The waitress walked away from the two of you, opening up your line of sight and Adam’s heart stopped as the two of you locked eyes. You dropped your gaze quickly, too quickly, but landed enthusiastically on Moose. Adam watched you drop to Moose’s level without skipping a beat, your velvet windchimes dropped to a silky baby voice, absolutely charming. He sighed quietly as you called over to Moose who was looking at you with “new friend” eyes.

“Hey there, lovey!” You smiled at Moose.

Adam’s heart fluttered. You liked dogs.

Then, you looked back up at him from underneath your lashes.

Holy shit.

“I’m sorry.” You frowned, lips turning down into a sweet little pout.

Adam choked on his own breath, eyes locked on your face. You shook your head a bit, eyes refocusing on Moose at his feet. You shook a lock of hair loose around your face and Adam imagined his hand reaching over to sweep it off your brow and tucking it behind your ear. His hand flinched with wanting to do just that. He swallowed, hoping it wasn’t loud enough for you to hear.

“Sorry.” You repeated again, breaking Adam’s heart. “Your dog is such a cutie!”

He cleared his throat, “No, no problem!” He tried to assure you.

He reached down for Moose, scratching the back of his neck, and urging him to sit up.

“This is Moose.” He hoped you would lean forward, maybe pet Moose or make eye contact with him again.

As if answering his prayers, your eyes flickered back up to him. You smiled gently, eyes darting back and forth between Adam and Moose. He wondered, for a moment, if you recognized him from anything; but couldn’t detect any reaction in your gaze. Your hand came up from your lap and you hesitantly waved at Moose from your seat.

“Hey there, Moose!” You smiled with both rows of brilliant white teeth.

Adam was suddenly jealous of his precious pup, wanting you to smile at him like that. The little traitor perked up then, sitting up and sniffing at you curiously. Well, that got him moving. Just then, the waitress came back outside, moving between the three of you to sit your coffee down, followed by a steamy croissant. He watched your long fingers caress the new cup of coffee as the waitress made her way between the two of you to ask Adam if he wanted anything else. Perhaps a little miffed she’d blocked his view of you, he made the extra effort to smile at you from around her; only to realize you’d turned back around in your seat.

He asked the waitress for whatever you had, hopeful she would leave them quickly and quietly. She had, thankfully. Adam cleared his throat and leaned over on his knees towards you.

“Excuse me, miss?” He nervously called for your attention.

You turned back around, all wide eyes and soft pout on your rosy lips. Adam tried not to let his gaze settle there for too long.

“Yes?” Velvet windchimes sang in his ears.

He cleared his throat again, unsure where he was going with this – he’d really just wanted to keep talking to you.

“Uh, what did you get?” He tried to act interested, in truth he _was_ , he was just much more interested in you, at the moment.

You laughed, as if the windchimes could sound any more velvet smooth or delicate like the wind.

You grasped your mug in both hands and turned around in your seat to show him.

“Flat white.” You explained, watching for a reaction.

“Ah.” He smiled, noticing Moose stand up and make his way over to you.

His leash gave him enough space to reach you, and your eyes met Adam’s as you tentatively sat your mug back down on the table before looking to Moose.

“Do you mind if I pet him?” You asked.

“Of course!” Adam chuckled, watching Moose ham it up for pets.

Your gentle fingertips caressed the space behind Moose’s ears, and you cooed sweet nothings at Moose while Adam shuffled to watch you both.

“What’s your name?” Adam blurted out without thinking.

The urge to palm himself in the face was immediate.

You laughed again, a soft chuckle before giving him your first name.

Adam stuck out an awkward hand, thumb sticking straight up.

“I’m Adam.” He watched for any signs of recognition, which would never come. You smiled at him warmly.

The waitress returned with Adam’s coffee, clearing away his empty mug and he paid her while standing. You saw him stand, having been distracted with loving all over his dog. You looked uneasy for a moment as he finished up paying the waitress and grabbed Moose’s leash from around the table leg. Adam stood awkwardly, trying to dwarf his unreasonable height as he shuffled closer to you, Moose happily utilizing the extra lead he was given.

“May I join you?” Adam asked timidly, large hand gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

He must have imagined the relieved smile which snuck across your lips.

“Please.”


	4. Reader

When the server had returned with Adam’s flat white, you stole a long glance at the man with long black hair and smattered moles over the right side of his face. He was uncommonly attractive, not conventionally, but absolutely mouthwatering. You had to actively remind yourself not to drool like Moose was. You patted the dog on his head as he nuzzled into your lap. You looked back up to Adam, shocked to see him pay the server and stand, untying Moose’s leash in doing so.

They must have been leaving, what a shame. You wondered if he’d go inside to ask for a takeaway cup. You wondered if he’d like the coffee he’d ordered because of you. Your chest felt heavy, not quite ready to say goodbye to this gentle giant and his handsome owner. But Adam shuffled closer to you, Moose taking the opportunity to scoot closer as well, and Adam’s large hand gestured at the empty seat across your table.

“May I join you?” Adam asked, his eyes so warm in the chilly morning.

You smiled in relief. “Please.”

Gosh, you hoped you didn’t sound desperate. You were glad he’d asked to join, happy to keep petting Moose and spend time with Adam. He took his seat across from you, close enough now for you to smell his cologne. You pretended to be preoccupied with scratching Moose’s ears while you watched him loop the leash to your table out of the corner of your eye. His hand accidentally brushed the side of your leg while fixing the leash and his eyes darted to yours, cheeks red.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered.

You flushed, hopeful he couldn’t hear your heart fluttering in your chest. You didn’t budge, trying to communicate through your body language that you were unphased by his touch. Moose laid between the two of you while Adam lifted his cup to his lips. You watched his plush lips part over the cup, and he sipped gingerly. His eyes met yours again, you lifted your own cup and looked at him from underneath your lashes. He hummed, a deep sound that made your heart skip a few beats. Then, he pursed his lips together and swallowed, his tongue sweeping a drop of coffee from his bottom lip. You thought you might feint.

“Mm, this is good.” He smiled, eyeing you somewhat suspiciously.

Oh, you might feint.

You shook your head, downing a large gulp of coffee before daring to look back at him.

You said something, an autopilot response which you hadn’t bothered to hear yourself say, before you knew it, you were crossing your legs to gain some friction between your thighs. Gosh, it had been a long time. If you couldn’t sit through a completely plutonic encounter with a random, handsome stranger in a coffee shop on a bleak Wednesday morning without conjuring up far fetched dreams of attraction, you were unfit to be in public. You pursed your lips before biting your bottom lip to gain some control again.

“So, Adam. What do you do?” You asked. Harmless conversation. Harmless.


	5. Adam

This was supposed to be harmless. But when Adam had sat down at your table, his fingertips had accidentally brushed the inside of your calf while securing Moose’s leash to the underside of the table. He’d blushed on contact, skin burning from the touch. His eyes met yours.

“Sorry about that.” He breathed, unable to get his mind off the way blood rushed immediately to a certain place.

Harmless, huh?

You didn’t jerk away, you didn’t say anything. You smiled at him, holding fast in your spot as your hands sought out the coffee mug in front of you. Adam searched for his coffee too, hopeful he could drown out his own awkwardness. He lifted the mug to his face, eyes on yours, and took a careful sip of the hot beverage. Your eyes were hooded by thick lashes, looking up at him from this angle made him wander what you might look like if you were on your knees… A satisfied hum escaped him before he could stop it. He swallowed the coffee down as he felt his cock twitch in his joggers. Distracted, he licked his lips. His eyes regarded you once more.

Where were you looking? His lips?

He could pass out.

He muttered something about the coffee being good, watching you closely for a reaction.

Your eyes snapped back to meet his before shaking your head like you had water stuck in your ears. He almost smirked. You had been looking at him. His heart bloomed.

“It’s good coffee. I’ve ordered it every time I’ve been here.” You answered, suddenly finding something about the tabletop very interesting as you picked at it with your fingertips, avoiding eye contact with him. Adam noticed you cross your legs under the table before you looked back up at him from under your lashes. Jesus Christ, he might pass out. You pouted before drawing your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down gently. Adam felt the breath rush out of his lungs as he fixated on your lips.

“So, Adam. What do you do?” You asked, fingertips drumming the table gently.

Adam swallowed thickly, forcing himself to think of something else other than your lips.

“Uh,” He was nervous again.

These kinds of things made him so uncomfortable. He never knew how to causally say ‘I’m famous.’

“I’m an actor.” He said quietly, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You didn’t seem phased, regarding him with gentle curiosity.

“TV, film or stage?” You asked, fingertips finding their way towards the middle of the table, closer to where Adam’s arm laid.

The small claim of territory didn’t go unnoticed by Adam, his eyes were glued to your fingers inching closer to him – quietly begging you to come closer.

“A little bit of all of it.” He answered honestly. Harmless Conversation. Harmless.


	6. Reader

An actor in New York.

They weren’t exactly difficult to come by. At least he looked like he got work; he was undoubtedly put together, clean, and Moose was well taken care of. You didn’t think he was s starving artist, at the very least. Perhaps he was in shampoo commercials. His hair was so magnificently windswept and kept luscious and long. You wanted to work your fingers into it. Harmless. Harmless.

“Which is your favorite?” You met his eyes again, a little surprised to find them darker and focused on you.

It sent a chill through you, a very welcome one.

“Uh.” His brow furrowed; he didn’t seem to enjoy this.

An actor in New York who doesn’t like talking about himself. Odd.

“I like stage the most, I think.” He looked around himself, then.

You smiled, trying to catch his eye.

He noticed, is heart faltering when your eyes met again, and he smiled back.

“What have you been in recently? Are you on or off Broadway?”

The two of you continued to talk about the theater. Adam admitted he was working on going to Broadway in the next month, and after talking extensively about himself for a while he finally asked you what you were doing. You gave him small details, not wanting to bore him off the bat with specifics, though he seemed genuinely intrigued. Leaning in across the table when he got you on a rant about coffee table books, of all things. He chuckled at your bad jokes and you noticed the way his eyes crinkled at the sides. You liked that.

He was a perfect gentleman, this gentle stranger you’d met over coffee on a cold Spring morning. Unfortunately, as the hours ticked on you had realized you needed to meet a client a few blocks away. You hated to even speak it into existence, but you desperately needed the business. You placed a gentle hand on Adam’s wrist to grab his attention. His eyes met yours, full of something – hope?

“I’m so sorry – I’ve been having such a lovely time with you, but I have a meeting I’m just about to be late for.” You tried to make it as clear as possible how badly you didn’t want to leave him.

He smiled, seemingly understanding as he stood, collecting Moose’s leash from under the table.

“No, I get it.” He assured you warmly, hand held out to you.

Your sleepy legs were sore from lack of use and you took his hand gratefully to steady yourself as you stood. Your eyes met again, you swallowed thickly and prayed he’d ask for your number. You ducked down to pat Moose’s head before you packed up your laptop bag. Adam was quiet at your side for a few moments. Please, please, please.

He said your name quietly.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”


	7. Adam

“Which is your favorite?” You asked as you picked apart your croissant, taking a small bite and placing it ceremoniously on your tongue.

It reminded Adam of the way that communion was placed on his tongue when he went to church as a kid, reverent and… special. You seemed to shake under his gaze.

“Uh, he’d forgotten to speak.

He really didn’t want to talk about himself. He wanted to know more about you. He’d answered a few more of your questions, enjoying the coffee you’d ordered and even picking at some of your croissant at your request that he help you finish it. During a lull in your questioning, he took the opportunity to ask some questions, himself.

“What do you do?” He watched you blush, pleased to see you weren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to talk about yourself either.

“Well, I’m an interior designer.” You said quickly, finishing off a final bite of the pastry and brushing the crumbs off your sweater.

Adam raised his brows, surprised.

“Really? Do you work for a company or do you do individual contracts?” You seemed impressed that he knew a difference between the two.

Luckily, Greta and Noah had been trying to convince him to hire someone for his new condo, so he was familiar with the concept and even some of the lingo. He’d asked you a few questions, trying to stick to what your personal preferences were, rather than previous clients. He’d laughed when he’d accidentally got you ranting about coffee table books. You weren’t a fan, as a general rule, but one of your clients had insisted on buying seasonal sets of coffee table books for nearly every holiday.

“No one needs a set of three curated books about Saint Patrick’s Day.” You’d said rolling your eyes.

He had been laughing over the thought of you, so gentle and quiet and sweet, arguing with some old Manhattan socialite that it would be a waste of her money to order all those coffee table books when your hand reached over and caressed his wrist on the table. His skin burned where you touched him. His eyes searched yours. You’d explained that you needed to head out to meet with a client, he couldn’t help but smile and how sincerely disappointed you seemed to be at attempting to tell him you had to go. He was a nervous wreck inside, knowing he was about to potentially cross a line in the interest of knowing you.

He collected Moose’s leash, gently rousing him in doing so and stood.

He noticed you struggling to stand and held out a hand, ecstatic when you took it without a second thought. Your eyes met, he found he couldn’t tear his gaze away from yours. Finally, you did; turning to pack up your things into your bag. Adam took a steadying breath before he said your name.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” He breathed.

You lit up, eyes wide and lips parted in waiting.

“Yeah, what is it?” You smiled up at him, taking in his height from this angle. He had to be over six feet.

“Would you want to do this again sometime?” Adam asked, wrapping Moose’s leash around his wrist nervously.

You smiled a brilliant two rows of white teeth at him.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot!” You laughed. Velvet windchimes.

He fished the phone out of his pocket, ignored a text from Greta, and put your number into his contacts. He knew he was smiling like an idiot the whole time, but he couldn’t help it. He texted you immediately, part of him unable to wait but another part of him wanted to be sure it was really your number. He beamed when your phone buzzed and you quickly added him as a contact before texting him back a simple “Hey, back.”

He grinned. Correct punctuation.

The two of you said a small goodbye, you ducked to pat Moose as you walked away with another glance back at him. He almost skipped to the dog park.

**Author's Note:**

> This in no way is based on any true events (though I wish it were) and is not intended to be disrespectful to Mr. Driver, his family, or his career. We're all fans here, and I'm a huge fan of everything this man does. On that note, please visit www.aitaf.org to see what this fantastic man has been providing for our active duty and veteran armed forces members. Please consider donating - the work they do is phenomenal and the quality of content that they provide is uniquely impactful and meaningful to service members and their families.


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